Dealing
by RavenRosebud
Summary: Harry is trying to deal with his grief.


Title: Dealing

Author: RavenRosebud

Pairing: Harry/Ron

Rating: R for some language, mild violence and frottage

Summary: Harry tries to handle his grief.

Disclaimer: They belong to JKR.

Warning: OOTP spoilers though you all should have read it by now, mention of character death

His body was shaking, his face covered in tears, his legs pressed into his chest. How could he handle this? He felt as though he was dying, his whole body ached. He just wanted to go numb, to slip into a coma and sleep forever in order to avoid thinking about it. He was gone, Sirius was gone.

He couldn't breath, he was gasping for air, becoming panicked. His whole body jerked forward as he lost what little food he had ate on the hard wood floor. Harry let his eyes drift closed as he curled in on himself and slipped into a restless sleep.

He was like the walking dead as he followed Mr. Weasley up the steps to Grimmauld Place. His frail body bumped into the umbrella stand knocking it over. "Filth! Scum! Traitors!" Mrs. Weasley entered the foyer and attempted to shut the curtains around Mrs. Black's portrait to silence her.

He was deposited in his usual room and his trunk was placed at the end of the bed. Mr. Weasley left him standing there his hands loosely dangling at his side, his face blank. Out of the corner of his eye he caught something moving. He turned his head slowly toward the table next to his small bed.

Mr. Weasley took the stairs two at a time at the sound of Harry's scream. The old door was thrown open and he felt his heart ache at the sight before him. Small shards of glass cover the wooden floor, a picture frame lie at his feet. Harry was kneeling on the floor, the glass digging into his knees. In his hand which trembled visibly he held a picture of a young Sirius who was standing with his arms around James and Remus. Mr. Weasley noticed that the picture of Sirius was waving and Harry was sitting there waving back to him.

The laughter that fill headquarters was short lived. Ron made his way up the stairs away from the twins who had been torturing him all day with randomly thrown tickling curses. He had not seen Harry since the incident at the Ministry of Magic.

He had been informed upon arrival that Harry was grieving, deep in despair over his godfather's death. Ron had heard of how Harry had nearly destroyed Dumbledore's office, throwing heirlooms against the wall, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Harry was curled up on his side, the blankets pushed down to the end of the bed, his pajama bottoms a tad too short after a recent growth spurt. "Harry?"

Ron edged closer, hesitating before sitting down on the messy bed. "All right there, Harry?"

He peered over the other boy's shoulder to make sure he was awake. There were dry tear tracks on his face, his scar was a vivid shade of red and puffy. Ron placed a freckled hand on the bare shoulder. "Harry?"

"Gone, he's gone." His voice was broken, unused for the past few weeks.

"I know Harry. I'm so sorry." Ron's voice was a whisper, he squeezed the shoulder under his hand. He felt Harry tense. This was going to be bad.

"I'm all alone now, there's no one left."

"Harry, that's not true. I'm here, I care about you and so does Hermione."

He fell off the edge of the bed when Harry quickly rolled over . "Liar! You think I don't know? You think I don't know why you are my friend? You're just like the rest of them, you only saw my scar. That day on the train, you couldn't stop staring at it, you think I don't know that was why you befriended me? I was scared and all alone so I didn't care why, but don't think for one second I didn't know." Harry's voice had raised until he was screaming, his voice cracking occasionally.

"Not true, Harry. I could care less about that stupid scar." Ron remained on the floor, he peered up at Harry who was kneeling on the bed.

"You like being my sidekick don't you? Getting all the attention that you couldn't get without me. If it wasn't for me you would be nothing. Do you think everyone would want to hang around you if you were just another bloody Weasley?"

Ron's eyes closed as he tried to forget the harsh words his best friend had just spit at him. He kept repeating in his head, 'He's grieving, he doesn't mean it, he's just upset.'

"You wouldn't even have made prefect. Dumbledore didn't give it to me because he thought I had too many responsibilities. You'll always be second Weasley!"

Ron threw himself at his former best friend. He heard Harry gasp as the air was knocked out of him. The sound of his fist hitting his solid cheek bone echoed in the room. He didn't even notice that nobody had investigated their screaming yet, they had to have heard.

Ron growled when Harry grabbed his hair and pulled. He found himself on the bottom as Harry rolled over and pinned him down. He screamed out when Harry brought his head down against his, hard.

"You bastard get off me!"

"Shut up! I'm tired of everyone telling me what to do. I'm not your fucking puppet." Harry grinned at the sight of blood rushing out of Ron's newly broken nose.

Ron thrust his hips up trying to knock Harry off balance. His eyes widened comically and he felt his mouth go dry as he realized that Harry was hard. Harry's cheeks reddened when he saw Ron's reaction, a small whimper escaped at the contact.

Ron stared up at those green eyes, finally filled with something, the emptiness had disappeared. He bit his lip and thrust up again. He felt hands roughly encircle his wrists and then Harry pushed back down against him.

"Lie, they all lie to me. Thought I could trust them, trust him." Harry ground his hips against the willing body beneath him. He couldn't stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth. "Hate them all, can't trust anyone. Used me, always using me."

Ron worked one hand free and wrapped his fingers in Harry's unruly mop of hair. He pulled him down and pressed his mouth against Harry's, their teeth clicked together and he felt Harry tense.

He pushed his tongue through those soft lips and moaned at the first taste of him. He wanted him to stop talking, didn't want to hear the hurt in his voice.

Harry was thrusting so hard against him it hurt, he could feel the other boy's bony hips even through their clothes. At some point he had grown hard, he tried to tell himself it was only because of the friction not because of how delicious Harry looked above him flushed and sweating.

He cried out into Harry's mouth as he climaxed, grateful that it had been muffled by their kiss. Harry continued to move frantically against him, his hands once again pulling on Ron's shaggy red hair. "Ron..going to...oh god"

Harry pressed his face into Ron's neck vaguely aware of the stickiness in his pajama bottoms that he had been wearing for the last two weeks. Ron felt the body above him begin to shake with silent sobs. He felt the wetness against his skin and realized that Harry was crying, he brought his arms up around him and held him close.

"Hush, it'll be all right. You'll see Harry, things will be just fine." He rubbed circles on Harry's bare back like his mother often did when he was upset.

"Not all right, never the same again."

Harry lifted his head and Ron looked up into those eyes that had darkened to a forest green. "Things are going to change, Ron. I'm not his puppet anymore, I'm no one's little soldier. Things are going to change."

Ron couldn't hold his gaze, his eyes drifted over to the door. He had never noticed how fascinating the grain of the wooden door was. He felt Harry lift off of him, felt the energy in the air. "Harry?"

"Hush, Ron. I need to think." Ron felt Harry lean over him and risked looking. "You'll help me right Ron? I need you."

"Yeah Harry. I'll be there, right at your side, like always."


End file.
